It Should Never Have Been Him
by ZamShazam1995
Summary: Jamie and Bart are on a simple recon mission to take out Manta's supplies. But Deathstroke shows up to put an end to them. He only has one bullet left and who will get it? Bluepulse if you squint. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH


I didn't want to leave, it was too risky. Every step I took seemed like it took me closer to Bart's prophecy. My whole word was opening up a chasm beneath my feet and every move I made brought me nearer to the cavern. It was as if I could feel the cracks slipping beneath me every time the scarab even talked to me. I got that flightless falling feeling like you get when you take that first plunge over the top of a steep rollercoaster. I was falling deeper and deeper into the pit and had no way of coming back.

I didn't tell anyone how freaked out I was. Bart seemed to be the only person who grasped the seriousness of the situation. Sometimes, I caught him staring off into the darkness and I knew that he came from a place of horror. He put on a mask to front the person he was trying to hide. I saw through it, but he saw through me as well.

He trusted me, which was more than I could count for myself. He trusted me with his secrets and the nightmares of the future, the future I helped create.

He trusted me today, with a recon mission. We went to the docks where Manta's ship was. We had Intel that he would be picking up supplies for his crew. Nightwing had seemed to want to veto the idea when Impulse told him, but we decided to go anyway. Nightwing had been acting strange anyway lately. Sometimes I forget that I'm not the only one with secrets.

We lay on our bellies on the top of the warehouse roof in the cold night. The crisp air billowed around us and I shivered under the suit. Bart styed strangely quiet the whole time. We didn't speak for hours, we only watched Manta dock and then his guards filed out.

"Should I hit the supplies?" I asked, turning my head to him. He buried his mouth and nose under his arm to keep out the cold. He kept a tight stare on Manta before answering me.

"Yea, but just the ammunition."

"What else is over there?" I glanced back at the docks, filled with cargo. It was amazing that he could even tell what was what. I had assumed that it all was ammunition.

"Those two are med supplies." He pointed to the two smaller crates near the front of the boxes. "Why would he need them?"

We didn't have much time to think of an answer before we heard a laugh from behind us. Really, I'd assumed my only enemy was Black Beetle, but as it turns out, I was wrong. Bart flipped over on his back and then jumped up to face his attacker while I flew up. So what if they saw? Our cover was already blown.

"You two are so annoying." The owner of the deep voice stepped from the shadows, a picturesque mask to match the mystery. "I don't know why Black Beetle doesn't just kill you. It seems he likes to toy with his things."

Impulse sped around him, creating an air torrent cutting off his oxygen. He simply stood there, staring back at me. The wind blew harder until the debris covered him and I couldn't see his face anymore, but not before he narrowed his eyes at me.

I tracked Impulse with my eyes and waited until he broke off to the left. I fired my plasma cannon at him, surprised when he actually fell to his knees. Usually they put up more of a fight then that.

"So funny," He muttered to the ground. "You two are the biggest annoyance."

He pulled a small handgun from the waistband of his pants and fired up into the sky, throwing me off guard. The plasma cannon stopped for a second; giving him enough time to jump out of the way and fired a shot in my direction. I tucked to my knees and rolled.

"Blue!" Impulse yelled as he sped my side. I flew up again and fired another sonic blast, but when he didn't fall I panicked.

"Why does this thing never work?" I muttered while Impulse sped around him again. He shot madly, bullets tearing through the air as he tried to match Bart's speed.

"One shot left." He muttered as Impulse raced to my side again.

Bart caught on before I did when he pointed the gun at me. He sped in front of my sight. I barely knew what happened but I remember pushing him to the side, or trying. Then we were both flying backward. Bart was propelled on my chest and he landed on top of me.

I heard a laugh and then a thud of Deathstroke jumping off the roof. I groaned and worked Bart off of me. The bugsuit retracted back and the cold wind hit my t-shirt and jeans.

"That could have gone better." I muttered, as he hit the roof beside me. I blinked after a few moments, waiting for him to say something, anything. "Bart?"

I rolled over onto my knees and looked down. He gripped his chest tight and he bit his lip. He was hurt, bad. I could already see blood seeping between his fingertips and underneath where his teeth were biting into his lip.

"Oh god. Bart no no." I hovered over him. "Qué debo hacer, oh God. What do I do?"

He opened his eyes and let go of his lip to gasp. A small trickle of the liquid spilled from his open mouth and to the roof underneath him.

"That was crash." He gasped, letting out a pained breath.

_The Impulse is going into shock. He is going to die._

"NO!" I yelled, pulling his clenched fist away from his chest roughly. He wheezed and I heard something in his flying in lungs. The wound wasn't that bad, it was on the right side of his chest, but quickly seeping blood into his clothes.

_Scan shows the bullet is lodged in his lung along with four bone fragments from his ribcage. The Impulse is going to die, Jamie Reyes._

"No, no, no." I looked at him, it wasn't that bad.

"This is good." He looked at me, couching up something thick and bubbly. "Now the prophecy is broken."

"Qué?" I said looking up at him, my mind was spinning to quickly to even translate anymore.

"In the future, I was alive." He said, smiling a horrible bloody smile. "Now it is not possible. You crashed the mode."

"Stop it. Stop." I didn't care if I was crying. "You are not going to die. I could have blocked it. I should be there, hurting, not you. Why did you take the shot?"

"You are more important." He muttered. I could scarcely hear him as his focus blurred in and out as if he was looking at something beyond me. "I always thought I'd die by your hand...never for you."

"No, no this is not happening." I muttered again, unaccepting of my senses. The air had a thick metallic scent to it, like someone was washing pennies. "Bart no, you can't die. You can't leave me here alone."

"I was never going back to the future anyway." He paused. "But this is more…like home…it's crash."

He coughed and I hiccupped, feeling unprotected. I was exposed like a nerve and he was dying. He was leaving this earth and he was my friend. He was my goddamn best friend.

_The Impulse's heart is slowing. He does not have much time left._

"Bart. I'm sorry, please. I swear, I won't let it happen, I won't go Dark side." He smiled at me, and I let out a sob as I pleaded with the dying boy. "Lo siento…please, I'm sorry."

"Oh shut up…" He muttered, blood dribbling onto his chin. "I know you won't. But promise me something?"

"What?"

"Just don't give up on the…team…on everyone. And if someone offers you a choice between…a red and a blue pill? You…take the red one hermano."

"Does that actually happen?" I laughed as I saw tears fall onto his chest, blending in with the red liquid. The blood flow was slowing, but there was enough of it. It had been leaking out and under us the whole time from his chest. It was stagnant under us like a rain puddle after a storm on the street.

"You'll see." He smiled and locked his eyes on mine for a few seconds. The thought struck me that I would never be able to see his eyes ever again. "Make a future for everyone. Make a future I'd…be proud to live in."

I nodded as he sputtered out. His flame was extinguished and suddenly I wasn't holding Bart in my arms, I was holding a body. It was a just a rag doll, the shell of the person who was once my best friend.

I don't know how long I stayed on that rooftop, clutching Bart's cold body. The sun rose and I could make out all of the puddles and trickles of blood that had poured out around us. My clothes were soaked with his blood, it was terrifying when I looked down and nearly cried in fear. I looked like a butcher who just killed someone.

For so much time I was convinced that it should have been me dead and not him. The future would have been saved undoubtedly because I wasn't around to pollute it. He would never have to remember what I did and why I died to stop it. He would die an old man, the only one remembering the evil that I'd be. That's how it should have been. Not him, never him. He was innocent, lively. He sacrificed his life to come back and stop everything, and he paid the ultimate price.

It should never have been him.


End file.
